


Fairy Tales for Rotten Apples

by ThestralsNest



Category: Descendants (2015)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-01
Updated: 2015-12-01
Packaged: 2018-05-04 08:43:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,211
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5327840
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThestralsNest/pseuds/ThestralsNest
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He has heard of time standing still during important events in someone’s life but he’s never thought it was anything more than a figure of speech. He counts up to 60. The clock still reads 6:30. The blankets are still cold. -- A Christmas Carol.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fairy Tales for Rotten Apples

**Author's Note:**

> I had a few slow days at work last week and decided to write a fluffy Christmas one-shot. I've read it over and changed things so many times I'm not even sure if all my ideas fit in together anymore, but I told myself I'd post it on Dec. 1st. I hope someone can enjoy it!

When Carlos pulls away from the kiss, he feels a rush of cold that makes his entire body shiver. Jay is staring at him with serious eyes, searching for some kind of explanation on his face. He can only return the stare with one of confusion and shock as if he wasn’t the one who initiated the kiss in the first place. 

“Wh—”

“Sorry!” Carlos yelps, jumping to his feet. “I don’t— Just—yeah, just ignore—it’s aah, a, an accident.” He stutters so much he isn’t sure he even has a point. “Sorry.” 

He takes off without another word, leaving Jay by the bleachers, still stunned but slowly standing up. Carlos’ lips are burning, a stark contrast with the rest of his body. He glances over his shoulder. Jay isn’t moving and he doesn’t call out his name, he merely stands there, in his muddy Tourney uniform. The snow is disturbed around his feet where Carlos has been crouching.

Luckily the other players didn’t notice when they left the field and the team is now resting around the bench, most of them trying to warm up by bouncing about and rubbing their hands together. Carlos walks past them briskly. 

“De Vil! We’re starting up again in 5!” Coach Jenkins yells at him. “Field’s this way!” 

“I’m not feeling well.” He shouts back without stopping. 

It isn’t a lie because he feels awfully queasy. His stomach is in a tight knot that he suspects is not going to loosen anytime soon. 

He hears the rough voice of the coach shouting after him, telling him to go see the nurse. He blatantly dismisses it with a wave of the hand. The nurse, however gentle and kind she is, can’t help him with this. 

Carlos’ breath fogs up and twirls around as he makes his way to the locker room. His reddened cheeks sting in the cold. He hopes that shedding his moist uniform will stop the incessant shivering raking his body and that a shower will clear his mind. He can’t focus on what happened, everything is too much of a blur at the moment. 

He goes through the motions, silently glad to have the quiet locker room to himself. 

Rubbing a towel on his head to dry his hair as he’s getting out of the shower, another towel tied around his waist, he’s not really paying attention to anything and lifts his head only to jump when he spots someone standing a few feet from him. 

His heart speeds up for a moment, the he laughs to himself when he makes out his own reflection in the steamy mirror. He shakes his head and wills his mind to be more present. He’s naturally jittery, but he feels like he’s going to reach new levels soon. 

Alas, even when he comes out of the locker room, smelling minty and fresh, he is still in a daze. He meets Evie on the way to his room. She’s with Doug who’s carrying a box with tinsel and stars on strings poking out of it. Carlos honestly doesn’t want to talk so he ducks his head and tries to sneak by without being noticed. 

“Hey, C!” She waves at him. “Aren’t you supposed to be at practice?” 

“Evie!” He rocks back on his feet. “Yeah, but I—ah, I’ve got a headache from the cold.” He says, sounding casual enough. He figures the smile might be a bit much so he rubs his forehead for good measure and frowns. “I’ll go rest for a bit.” 

“Can I get you anything?” She asks, stopping him as he prepares to dash away. 

“No don’t worry, I just need to…” He points vaguely in front of him. “I’ll see you later,” 

Evie doesn’t seem to be entirely convinced, but she nods anyway. “Take care.” She says, turning to Doug who’s looking at him with a mix of worry and perplexity. 

“Yeah,” Carlos says without flourish, running to his room. 

The corridors and faces melt together and he reaches the room quickly, throwing the door open then going to sit on the computer chair in front of his desk and turning the laptop on out of sheer habit. He swings around on the chair nervously, eyes never resting on one spot for more than a few seconds.

The laptop loads up and he sees Evie’s selfies on the screen, an endless stream of her face in different poses, hairstyles and people. Carlos likes the new picture without thinking twice. Not doing so would bring about questioning and disappointment he doesn’t need right now. 

He looks over at Jay’s side of the room and feels the hair on his body prick up. He remembers Jay’s face, the way it was unable to decide on a proper reaction because Carlos doesn’t usually kiss him. He doesn’t usually kiss anyone at all and he wonders what made his self-control slip this time. He’s tried so hard to avoid this. Maybe the bone-chilling cold, the way they were hidden from everyone, the way Jay was laughing, the magic in air so close to Christmas day, or a messy combination of everything was too much this time around? He can’t remember the details. Either way, he decides, he needs to settle on a course of action because it will for sure need fixing. 

He’s so caught up in his thought that he doesn’t see the light fading around him. The room is becoming dark and clammy, the colors darkening ominously. He’s too distracted to notice it. 

His mind spins, he can’t picture what Jay’s reaction will be, but he apprehends the worst. Jay’s known for his brutal honesty and he’s seen him turn down girls with no concern for delicacy. He just hopes he won’t get punched. Not that Jay had ever punched one of the girls, mind you. 

He wheels around on his chair absentmindedly. As he turns round and round he sees something at the corner of his eye and his heart stops for a beat. Someone is there. He jumps so high the chair tilts backward and he’s sent to the floor. It’s painful, but he manages to pick himself up and get back on his feet. 

“Evie!” He sighs heavily. “How did you get in?” 

She just sort of stares, then looks down at her hand in wonder, giving a little huff. Something about her about her doesn’t sit quite right, her eyes are dark and hollow, there is no twinkle in them, and her features are more dour than normal. He fumbles with the chair and places it between them as a form of shield. 

“You’re not Evie.” He accuses. 

“Are you sure this is what you want?” She, Not-Evie, says. Her voice is deep and it sounds like a warning. She takes a step forward and he draws back. 

One moment he’s gasping and the next he’s waking up in his chair, panting heavily. He looks around him in panic. The room is bathed in the golden rays of the sunset. He pats at his chest and his thighs, checking that he’s real and this is now, and he wonders when he’s fallen asleep. “Oh my God…” He mumbles, scratching at his cheeks. 

A surge of panic shots through him and clears the dream out of his mind. The clock shows 5:50 in glowing red numbers. Tourney practice is going to be over in 10 minutes, which means that Jay will be coming back to the room, probably demanding explanations. 

He isn’t sure he has any to offer. It was an impulse, a moment when he wasn’t aware of himself, and he doesn’t want a mistake to ruin their carefully built friendship. They’re roommates, they’re friends, and as much as he has known for a long time that his crush is out of line, he has always managed to keep it a secret. 

The clock’s numbers are turning fast. Carlos bites his bottom lip, unable to focus on the screen. He wonders briefly were Dude is. 

It’s a little after 6 hits that he hears the sounds of footsteps and of a heavy bag trailing against the wall. He hesitates, hands shaking, and then dives into his bed, covering himself up with the cold sheets. He hears Jay opening the door, it creaks eerily. There’s the thud of a Tourney bag as it hits the floor. Carlos scrunches his eyes closed. There’s a second thud he can’t identify.

It takes a while before Jay starts moving around the room again. Carlos peers through his eyelids to look at the clock. It’s almost 6:30 now. He can hear Jay rummaging through his bag, paper crumpling roughly. It goes on for a long time and Carlos wishes he could go back. He wishes he could be talking to Jay casually right now, laugh about the lovesick eyes Ben makes every time Mal comes to see their practice, exchange tips on how to beat the level they’re at in the video game Chad has lent them…he doesn’t think he’s ever wanted to go back and change anything so intensely before. 

He looks at the clock. It’s 6:30. There’s not a sound in the room. He didn’t hear Jay go to bed. Then again, he has been preoccupied and might have missed it. He waits, but something feels wrong. The air is still and the blanket isn’t warming up despite the time Carlos has been in bed now. 

He has heard of time standing still during important events in someone’s life but he’s never thought it was anything more than a figure of speech. He counts up to 60. The clock still reads 6:30. The blankets are still cold. 

He slowly turns around, trying to keep the ruffling to a minimum, and sees Jay, sitting on the floor in front of his bag. He’s frozen into place, completely unmoving. Everything looks frozen. Every particle seems to be standing, waiting in apprehension. Carlos lifts his covers gingerly, looking around anxiously. 

It’s still 6:30. 

His movements feel heavy as he gets out of his bed. “Jay?” He calls out once and makes a face at how feeble his voice sounds. He stretches out his hand.

“He’s okay.” A voice rings before he can touch Jay’s shoulder.

Carlos blinks and takes a quick scan around the room. Maleficent, Mal’s mother, the self-proclaimed ruler of the Isle of the Lost, is standing in the corner, smirking. His breath gets caught in his throat and he’s too scared to move. Wasn’t she supposed to be a lizard?

“Let’s get going, shall we?” She says. But it’s not her voice. Not quite. It’s not as icy, not as strict and malign. It sounds calm, tinted with…good intentions. It’s unsettling. He still can’t bring himself to speak but he straightens his back. 

She gazes at him, chin held up high. “Are you ready?” 

He shakes his head. It must be a terrible nightmare. “What—” He starts, and then tries again. “Who are you?” 

“I’m the Ghost of Christmas Past.” She says as the world dissolves around them. It makes Carlos wobble a little. The sensation is akin to being in a roller coaster right before a drop. He’s not sure he likes it, but as they float in darkness, he has little choice but bear with it.

Then suddenly, they’re in a familiar room. Carlos’ shoulders droop. He sees his mother’s vanity mirror and the mattress where he used to sleep. There’s the small radio he remembers finding in the basement. The screwdriver he used to mess with the circuits is lying next to it. 

He yelps and jumps up when he catches the shadow of Maleficent. She’s watching the room, hands clasped together in front of her. 

“Why are we here?” It takes a whole lot of his courage to get the words out. 

“You asked to go back.” She says simply. 

He hears mumbles from the opposite side of the door and immediately makes a move to hide. 

“We’re incorporeal.” Maleficent says, standing proudly. He hears the words, but they don’t register and he tries to hide behind a coat rack holding a few of his mom’s cheaper non-fur coats. 

Carlos is shooting worried looks around the room. He shouldn’t be back here after all he’s been through to get out. Maleficent touches his shoulder with her long, skeletal hand. It forces him to relax a little, but his brain is reeling in a thousand thoughts a minute. 

Something bumps at the door and it flings open. A younger version of himself, smaller and shorter, stumbles in. He’s pouting and throwing a towel down to the floor. By the looks of it, he’s just finished taking care of his mother’s bunions. He shivers at the memory. 

“When is this?” He questions, almost forgetting that the person answering wears the face of the most terrifying fairy in all fairy tales. 

“It’s 3 days before Christmas.” She says. “3 years ago.” 

He looks curiously at the other him who is picking up the radio and tweaking at it. 

“I don’t think I knew it was Christmas.” 

The Isle had limited knowledge of what Christmas is – it had limited knowledge of many things. Carlos grew up thinking that Sandy Claws, as he used to call him, gives presents to the nice kids of Auradon while the naughty kids of the Isle could only get the old garment and the broken toys shipped to them a few weeks later. His first Christmas present was a pair of black and white fluffy socks from Evie on their first Christmas in Auradon. 

He continues to watch as younger Carlos is playing with the radio, trying desperately to get a signal. 

“Carlos!” He hears his mother shout. “Someone’s at the door!” Her hysteric voice echoes through the halls and his other self gets up with a deep sigh. 

Something clicks in his mind and he remembers. He remembers his mother’s green face mask and the gooey cucumber slices softening on her eyes that day. He remembers going downstairs to get the door. And he remembers who was standing outside in all his boyish handsomeness. 

He runs after himself without a second thought, leaving Maleficent behind in his mom’s dressing room. He goes down the stairs while younger Carlos slides down the marble handrail. Someone is bashing at the door repeatedly.

His other self goes to open it. Jay is standing there, young, smug, with a smirk carved into his face. Carlos doesn’t recall having a crush on him back then and he marvels at how his past self seems to shrivel back in fear at the sight of his friend. 

Jay doesn’t even bother greeting him. “Got a minute?” He asks boldly, hands in his pockets. 

Younger Carlos looks behind him, through Carlos. He hesitates. “Sure,” He says finally, voice cracking. “What’s up?”

“We’ve got fairy lights up in warehouse.” Jay says enthusiastically. “We need to blow them up for a prank. Can you do that?” 

“Just show me where the breaker is and I can overload it. Should be enough to blow them up.” Younger Carlos thinks. 

Carlos, the real one, is observing the conversation as he walks next to them. The streets are almost deserted because everyone on the Isle knows better than to wander outside when it’s dark and villains are roaming. 

Jay is trying to shove something in his pocket. “What are you holding?” He hears himself ask. 

“Oh, this?” Jay holds up a tuff of leaves. It looks weak, old. The tip of the leaves are brown and dry. “Mistletoe. Swiped it from Gaston’s doorstep.” 

“Mistletoe?” 

“Yeah, you know. That kissing under the mistletoe nonsense.” He says, holding the branch up and making kissy faces. “Makes girls lose their mind,”

Other Carlos raises an eyebrow at him, but doesn’t say anything else. They walk down the street and he’s never noticed how smoothly Jay’s hand grabs at anything sticking out of its place. He knew he did it, but he’d never truly witnessed it in that way before.

They get to the warehouse and Carlos is filled with nostalgia. The air is dense and heavy on his lungs and the humidity makes it harder to move freely, not to mention the clutter of boxes and various items on the floor. Mal is waiting in the middle of the room, arms crossed above her chest. 

“Got him,” Jay says. 

“Perfect!” She replies. In a flash, Carlos recalls why he used to be terrified of her. “What are you standing there for? Work your nerdy magic, boy!” She points to the back of the warehouse where fuses and breakers are sticking out. 

He watches himself do what he’s told. Fairy lights can’t explode by overloading them here, the power is too weak and inconsistent. He knows this now, but there’s little he can do to help. He looks around, memories of a long distant past flashing before his eyes. Roughhousing between the fruit shelves, kicking basket of fish to the ground, getting bullied by the Gastons near the trucks…It seems like so long ago now. 

Jay is leaning on a pile of boxes probably filled with expired products. The smell coming out of them is foul. Mal joins him by sitting down on the truck bed of a car. It makes a bouncing noise. 

He wasn’t there to hear Jay and Mal’s conversation the first time around and he isn’t sure if it’s fair to him to eavesdrop. He stands a few meters from them, flattening himself against a tower of crates that teeters dangerously.

Mal is watching Jay with easily dispelled mockery, picking up a sketchbook she keeps in her bag and opening it randomly. What she is reading doesn’t look like drawings from where Carlos is standing, more like an elaborate plan with arrows pointing around the page.

“I thought there were enough princesses around to keep you satisfied.” She says with a sneer. 

“What, he’s easy on the eye.” Jay replies. Carlos follows his gaze and flushes when he notices that it leads straight to him. 

“Whatever, dude.” 

“I’m just sayin’,” Jay adds, crossing his muscular arms without moving his eyes from the younger Carlos. “He’s not bad looking.” 

“Cool down. He’s like twelve.” Mal rolls her eyes the same way she still does. “Didn’t know you swung that way anyway.”

“Eh. I swing anywhere the gold is.” Jay stretches his arms and puts his hand behind his head, relaxing against the boxes. “Doesn’t matter much. He’s in rags. It’s a shame he’s worthless.” 

Carlos’ blush fades quickly. He doesn’t know why he feels a pang of sadness in his stomach, but he does. It’s not like Jay is going to declare his undying love for him and it’s not like Carlos even liked him much back then, but it’s still Jay and it’s still Jay’s voice saying that he’s not worth anything. 

The lights turn on, making him look up. They sparkle above their heads. More than a few of them are blown, but they make the warehouse look a little magical.

“Good work genius. You made it romantic. Now I just need them to go boom!” Mal shouts at him. Other Carlos takes a glimpse at her with an intimidated smile and returns to fumbling with the wires and the fuses. He has no idea what he’s doing and his sweaty hands aren’t helping. Carlos remembers this well.

“Seen enough?” A voice says behind Carlos.

He doesn’t turn around. He can just imagine Maleficent lurking in the shadows of the warehouse and doesn’t need the actual picture. 

“Yeah,” Mal and Jay are laughing as his other self messes with the wires and hisses when he gets electrocuted. “Can you take me home now?” 

She grabs his shoulder almost comfortingly. The scene from their younger days starts becoming more and more distant until it’s covered in darkness. He slips out of reality again. 

When his vision blots back together, he feels nauseated but he’s standing in his Auradon room, Maleficent gone. The dark fog hasn’t completely cleared yet.

“Geez!” He hears Jay gasp. He looks down to see him on the floor, where he’s left him God knows how long ago. His long hair is held back in a messy bun and one of his hands is clenching at his heart. “How long have you been up?” 

“Uh...” Carlos says eloquently. He looks around and spots the clock. 

It’s 6:32. 

“Sorry.” He says rapidly.

Jay’s eyes soften. “I brought your bag back.” He says, pointing behind him. “Hey, since you’re up...can we talk?” Carlos doesn’t think he’s ever seen him blush before. It’s kind of mesmerising. “Listen, Carlos...” 

Carlos wobbles on his feet for a bit, then sits on his bed, head still spinning from the time traveling. Jay’s looking up at him now and he stops in his trail of thought to give him a concerned look. 

“Are you okay?” He asks. “You look kind of flushed.” 

“I’m okay...” He whispers, words catching in his throat. “I’m just—sleepy. Let’s talk...later.” or never. He thinks. He lies down and rolls over to get in a cocoon of blankets that blocks him from Jay. He knows he’s acting like a difficult child.

Jay is sighing angrily somewhere in the room. “Good night, I guess.” Carlos is glad when he doesn’t press the issue. 

He’s not ready to talk about it, not ready to think about it and he’s not sure what showing him Jay talking about how worthless he is helped the case at all. Whatever ghost it had been was probably trying to give him a warning. Jay is going to turn him down. He doesn’t know why that should be a surprise. His mother always told him there were no fairy tales for rotten apples.

He’s not going to fall asleep until much, much later. And the absence of the soft snores he usually hears coming from Jay’s bed tells him that his roommate isn’t getting any sleep either. 

 

 

“What’s going on?” Evie asks him at dinner the next day. He blinks muzzily at her. She’s been sending him strange looks all day. “You look awful. Aren’t you excited for Christmas tomorrow?” 

He’s so caught up with his thoughts that he’s forgotten about Christmas. The sparkly decorations around the dining hall and the big trees at every corner apparently aren’t enough to remind him. He lets his spoon fall down in his plate with a clatter. 

“Did something happen with Jay?” She asks. There’s a glint of badly concealed curiosity in her eyes. “You guys are acting a bit odd today,”

He blushes. Of course Evie would pluck the nerve right away. “I’m tired.” He says dramatically. 

“Are you getting sick?” She presses her cold palm to his forehead, and then twists it around to press the back of her hand to it. “Don’t push yourself so hard.” 

Doug nods next to her. “You’ve been a big help for the science club lately, but maybe you should take it easy.” He adds, chewing on the cinnamon stick that was meant to stir his apple cider. “You don’t look so good.”

“It’s not that. I just couldn’t sleep very well.” Carlos answers. He’s about to attempt to explain why, Evie is already well aware of his crush on Jay anyway, but he spots Mal walking in the dining hall followed by none other than… well speak of the devil.

“I should go lay down.” He picks up his tray, almost forcefully tearing his arm away from Evie’s grip who’s trying to get him to stay. 

“Text me if you need anything, alright?” She doesn’t even try to hide the concern in her voice. 

He wants to smile fondly at her, to go back to his seat and tell her everything. But Jay is walking towards them now and he can’t endure more time in the same room as him. They’ve been sitting close together in class all day.

He’s sure someone must have noticed. They’re usually pretty loud in class. If they’re not teasing each other and roughhousing, they’re raising their hands to say stupidly witty comments or they’re trying to embarrass the teacher until they’re red in the face. The awkward silence between them that day made everyone stare weirdly at them. They probably know something’s wrong by now.

He’s walking to his room as fast as he can. The corridors blend together, he hears some people greet him and he offers shy smiles back. Lonnie stares at him for as long as she can when he walks past her. He feels like everyone knows he’s avoiding Jay and he’s afraid everyone can guess why. 

Shame-faced, he opens the door to their room and steps into what feels like crunchy snow. He doesn’t exactly expect cold wind to blow into his face so he closes his eyes and flaps at it in vain. His first thought is Oh, no we forgot to close the window. But when he looks around, he’s outside. Confused, he steps back and staggers, hand fumbling to find the doorframe. He can’t find it. He’s in front of the school, gazing up at the Beast statue that still secretly freaks him out.

“Oh, there you are, dear.” Someone says. It sounds like it comes from above. 

The Fairy Godmother is floating down. She’s not wearing one of her sickeningly cute powder blue suits, but a long blue robe with a hood and a bright pink ribbon around the neck. She looks less like the principal of Auradon Prep and more like she does in the torn and yellowed fairy tale picture books he read as a child. 

“Fairy Godmother.” He wheezes. “Am I in the past again?” He blurts out. 

“Yes.” She answers with a warm smile. “And no.” 

They start to walk. “You’re the ghost right? Why are you uh...wearing Fairy Godmother this time?” 

“I’m not the same one who visited you before,” She says, twirling her wand. Glitters are falling out of it in a cascade of sparkles. “You’re the one choosing what I look like.” 

She’s strolling beside him like she’s floating above the ground, just like the real Fairy Godmother does when she’s patrolling the hallways. 

“When are we now?” He asks. “Why am I not freezing?” He looks down at his black and white sweater vest with the thin shirt underneath; he’s wearing shorts for God’s sake. He bends to pull his black knee-high socks higher.

“We’re now.” She says, stopping when they get close to two bodies sprawled down on the snow. “And weather works differently here. So does time and…well, laws of physics.” 

He’s curious as to how it works but asking more questions seems out of place. Evie is in the snow at his feet, Doug beside her; both of them are looking up at the sky. Her bright blue jacket is shining in the light and her red lips and blushed up cheeks are contrasting with the pure white snow around them. 

“Do you have snow on the Isle?” Doug asks, hands folded together on his stomach and hood pulled on his head to avoid direct contact with the snow. 

Evie giggles. Carlos feels like he’s intruding. “Of course we do!” She says. “But it’s grey and kinda slushy. I never knew snow could be so pretty on the ground.” 

“Oh.” Doug murmurs. “Then have you ever gone ice skating?” He questions, looking genuinely curious. 

“No, not really. Why, is that an invitation?” She says cunningly and bends up to land a quick peck on Doug’s cheek. “Because that sounds lovely.” 

Doug smiles brightly at her then nods, pink dusting his cheeks. “Okay.” 

Evie is grappling in her bag and pulling her smartphone out. “This is a perfect selfie shot.” She extends the phone above their heads and tells Doug to look pretty. He adjusts his glasses in response while she pats down a few frizzes in her hair. 

“Why are you showing me this?” Carlos wonders aloud. “This is private.”

“Why indeed.” 

“Do I get a hint?” 

The Fairy Godmother simply gives him a side smile and starts to make her way down to the Tourney field where he can see players running. He spots himself, wearing the 101 jersey, barely able to keep up with the rest of the team as they run around the field. He looks pathetic. 

They don’t stop at the field and instead climb up the bleachers next to Mal. Audrey is further up, forming a gossip circle with a couple of other girls. 

He stares at himself from a day ago and sighs, then he looks over at Jay who is well ahead of every other player, the only competition being Chad and Ben. While Chad is doing his bed to surpass him, Ben is content with running at his own pace, shooting glances in Mal’s direction. She gives a shy wave back and tries to cover it up by passing her hand through her hair. 

Carlos hides a smile. Of all people to embrace romance in Auradon, he wouldn’t have pegged Mal to be the one. 

“Who does he think he is?” Mal mumbles to herself, a smile still splitting her face in two. “Stop looking over here.” She says again. 

The Fairy Godmother laughs and it prompts Carlos to do the same. It’s sweet, it’s awkward and it’s what he always thought a first love was supposed to look like. The kind of stories they make girly books about. The kinds he secretly enjoyed flipping through away from time to time. 

“All right, take 15!” He’s pulled out of his reverie by Coach Jenkins yelling at the players. He spots himself leaning onto his knees; he can still remember the burning feeling in his lungs after the run. 

Jay is waiting for him, high-fiving a couple of their teammates as they make their way to the bench. There’s not an ounce of fatigue about him.

Earlier Carlos reaches him and they start talking. He doesn’t remember what they talked about, but he remembers being nervous. He can see himself playing with his fingers restlessly. They grab bottles of water at the bench. 

There’s a strange wind in the air and a sinking feeling in his stomach. He leaves Fairy Godmother’s side in favour of following Jay and yesterday-him to the side of the bleachers. He doesn’t know why he bothers, because he knows how it ends. But you can’t pry your eyes away from a train wreck. 

He finds them where he expects them to be. Jay is washing his hands in ungodly cold water coming from a tap sticking out from the ground. 

“Anthony Tremaine.” Jay says. “He’s got a thing for you, doesn’t he? He did back on the Isle.” 

Carlos recalls the conversation. How Ben is pulling strings to bring more children from the Isle and enroll them in Auradon Prep. Jay had asked who was on top of the list and there was only three they were seriously considering. That Anthony was first on the list was no surprise, with his princely demeanour and very decent personality. That Jay thought Anthony was remotely interested in Carlos was something else entirely. 

“I don’t think...” Carlos hears himself say. “He’s alright, but he’s not...” You, he remembers thinking, ashamed at how painfully cheesy it sounds now. 

“Hey, hey, I’m just saying you might want to give it a shot.” Jay says. 

Give it a shot. Those were the words that broke him. The realisation that Jay will never know how he feels if he doesn’t give it a shot, this is what pushes him over the edge. A horrible logic, really, now that he thinks about it. Why can’t he just wait and give Anthony a shot. He was handsome and well-mannered, almost kind by the Isle’s standard. 

Past-Carlos crouches down and he wants to stop him. Stop himself from making the huge mistake of kissing Jay right there, as the snow gleams and his brain is cloudy. He stays frozen in his spot as he gets the whispers of a conversation that float over to him in the breeze. 

“Anthony is fine...But he’s just not...” 

And it happens, he’s leaning in and catching Jay’s lips, letting a sigh come out of his nose. It sounds awfully like relief and Carlos grimaces at the irony. 

He didn’t notice Jay’s hand tensing up the first time because his eyes were squished closed and his mind was blank. He’s lucky Jay didn’t punch him. Had it been anyone else, he might have been on the floor with a bloody nose. 

When ugly, stupid, past-Carlos pulls back, still crouching in the snow, his eyes are wide open and he looks completely shocked. 

Carlos lets out a humourless chuckle. 

“Wh—” Jay starts.

“Sorry! I don’t— Just—yeah, just ignore—it’s aah, a, an accident.” It sounds even stupider the second time around. “Sorry.” And past-Carlos takes off. He’s gazing back with a strange mixture of sadness and confusion contorting his features. 

Carlos is standing a few feet away from Jay, looking at himself go. Jay is standing now, the water is still running. It takes a moment before he bends down to pour water into his hand as he does when he needs a sip to drink. He stops when his hand is halfway to his lips, water pooling in his palm. He shakes his head, lets the water drop to the ground and turns the knob to stop the stream. 

He doesn’t say anything or makes any kind of telling sound. He doesn’t look angry or calm. He’s definitely not happy, but he doesn’t seem unhappy either. Carlos can’t tell what he’s thinking. It’s unnerving.

Jay seems to drag his feet in the snow when he joins the team back at the bench and Carlos beats himself up about it. His past self is long gone and the Coach is telling Jay to check up on him and make sure he gets enough sleep that night, 

“Yes, Coach.” He says without any retort or funny comment. The Coach shoots him an incisive stare. “You better not come down with the same thing he does. We’ve got a game in a week and half and you’re more valuable than—.” 

“I’ll be okay.” He snaps back. “Don’t worry.” 

It sort of hurts that Jay doesn’t bother to defend his value in the team like he used to. Carlos figures it’s becoming increasingly hard to pretend he can play Tourney. Besides, Jay’s brow is furrowed now and he can imagine that the thoughts are far from Carlos’ Tourney abilities. 

“Can I go back?” He asks when he feels a presence next to him. “Can I change it?” 

Fairy Godmother gives an uncharacteristic cluck of the tongue, a further reminder that he’s not dealing with the loving mother figure of the school despite the appearances. “The present is yours.” She says shortly. “What was that spell.” He looks at her and she’s wearing a sort of pompous expression that is so wrong on Fairy Godmother’s face. “Bibbity bobbity boo?” 

He’s swept off his feet in a strong gust of wind before he can say anything, it makes him black out for a second and when he opens his eyes, he’s standing next to a crouching Jay who’s babbling on about Anthony Tremaine again. 

Carlos doesn’t know what to do, doesn’t know how to change it, isn’t even sure if he really wants to change it now that he’s here. He feels like he’s forgotten a script he’s never had. He flails about for a bit until a dull in the conversation. 

“I guess I’ll see when he gets here. I mean maybe he’s not even interested in me. I don’t think many people are.” he spouts out. He winces at how bitter he sounds. “I mean I don’t know, it’s not like many people think of me that way or anything…right?” 

Jay looks up at him weirdly. Carlos resists the urge to scrooch down next to him and feel those lips again. 

“Don’t say that, buddy. You’re more than pretty okay.” Jay’s voice is warm and affectionate. “Sorry that’s…a weird thing to say.” He finishes up. “Fair enough about Anthony though.” 

“I guess you’re right. I should give Anthony a…a shot.”

Carlos thinks that maybe it wasn’t the right thing to say, because Jay looks at him like he expected something else. 

The taller boy stands up, plastering a patented smile on his face. Carlos is not sure what warranted this expression, but he’s not so fond of it and has an urge to wipe it off. He bottles it up when he notices his body naturally leaning closer and his toes pushing him up. 

They’re called back by the Coach and Carlos thinks _yes! I did it!_ They go back to the field and practice goes by in the blink of an eye. Carlos’ lungs hurt from the heavy breathing and the cold, but he’s too happy to be laughing with Jay again to complain about it. It's the last time they play before winter break and the team walking down the field merrily, chatting about their plans. Carlos doesn't really have any when he thinks about it. Mal is going to Beast's castle and he assumes that there won't be a repeat of their fun little gathering of four this year.

He thinks about it as they shower and change and they’re soon walking back to their room, Carlos’ bag pulling at his shoulders uncomfortably. 

Doug stops them when they’re going through the main hall.

“Hey, guys! I got all this Christmas stuff from my cousins.” He says, holding the box with the garlands sticking out. “Evie took most of them but I have leftovers.” He shrugs the box in their direction. 

They exchange a glance. Neither of them have really thought about decorating their room. “Sure,” Jay answers, taking the box from Doug. 

“Awesome!” He says with relief. “Carlos if you have some time to drop by the science club’s Christmas party tomorrow, come see us for a bit, okay?” 

“Okay,” He nods. 

He leaves with a wave of the hand. Carlos looks at the tinsel coming out of the box. Jay smiles at him amusedly. 

“Let’s go put these up then!” He says, shrugging his Tourney bag further on his hip. 

Carlos is pretty happy when he puts his bag down. He massages his shoulder. Jay is putting the box down on his bed and throws his Tourney bag to the floor effortlessly. He’s digging through the decorations, glitter falling out all over his bed. There’s a few baubles that he sets on his duvet and a whole bunch of fairy lights.

“Let’s start with that!” Jay says, much more enthusiastically than Carlos would have presumed. 

They decide on the patch of wall they’ll put it on. Jay’s wins easily because moving the big desk on Carlos’ side of the room is practically impossible and climbing over it to place the lights up seems more bothersome than anything. 

Jay is pinning the lights up while Carlos holds the rest of the series. “What should we do with the baubles?” Carlos picks one up from the bed. It’s red and gold and twinkles in the soft glow coming from the fairy lights. 

“I don’t know. Hang them on the lamp?” Jay says. “Kinda looks like a tree.” 

As he says this, he goes to grab at the next stretch of fairy light from Carlos’ hand. He’s close and Carlos is all too aware of it. He grips at the fairy lights a bit tighter and feels Jay tug at it. 

“Carlos?”

He’s not sure if it’s the softness of the call or the gentle lights around them that makes him get on his toes and brush his lips against Jay’s. Its over before he even realises he’s done it. 

When it dawns on him, he can’t help the terrified expression that creeps on his face. He lets go of the bauble and the fairy lights he’s still holding and they crash to the floor with the sound of broken glass. Jay is looking at him with the same serious expression he wore before, hair framing his face perfectly, glowing in the golden hue. 

“No.” Carlos blurts out. “Sorry! I didn’t want to—“ except he did. “It’s not—” except it is. “It was an accident!” He steps into the broken glass and yelps as a sharp pain shoots through his foot. How is this any better than the last times?

Jay looks down at their feet. “Carlos!” He says when he sees the drops of blood tainting the carpet. 

“I’ll clean it up!” Carlos They both bend down at the same time and bump their heads. “Sorry!” Carlos quickly strokes his forehead where he was hit. 

“It’s okay,” Jay says while Carlos sidesteps. While the older boy goes to pick up the glass, he strips his sock and grabs his foot to look at the underside, wobbling on the other. There’s a line of blood under his foot. He picks at the shard of glass sticking out of his skin. 

“How is it?” Jay asks, concern almost palpable in his words. He comes closer to examine the damage. “I’ll go get peroxide.” He’s out the door before Carlos has time to process it. 

Alone in the room, Carlos bounces his way to his bed and sits down. He catches a glimpse of himself in the window. His hair is in a frazzle and he proceeds to aggressively pat it down. He watches his hair poof up again and he falls down on his back to sigh at the darkness. The soft golden lights shining at the other side of the room feel so far away.

He squirms and whines until he’s satisfied with the small tantrum and his muscles relax a little. He can’t believe he repeated his mistake. They, whoever they are, gave him a chance and he blew it. Jay’s going to come back and he’s going to get turned down for real. Jay has a good heart, but he’s blunt in these situations. Carlos doesn’t think he can take it. 

He looks over at the clock. It’s 6:30. 

He frowns. 

There’s no way it’s 6:30. It was 6:30 ages ago. “Oh, no.” He says out loud. An unsettling familiar smell makes him gag. It’s strong and smells like alcohol and musty perfume. He peers over the edge of his blanket. A dark figure is standing by his bed. “I failed. I can’t change it.” He says defensively. “I’m sorry.” 

“You’re changing it.” The figure says in a creepy voice he knows how to well. His foot stings as he scrambles to the edge of the mattress. His mother is in his room; her yellow mink fur coat is swishing around as she walks towards his bed. “You’re smart enough to see what’s happening.” 

She extends a hand that he doesn’t take. “Who are you?” He barks. 

“The Ghost of Christmas Yet to Come. At your service.” Her voice is devoid of all the insanity his actual mother’s holds. It’s poised and well under control. “We’re going to go on a quick trip. Shall we?” And she grabs his wrist with her thin, bony hand, pulling him out of his bed. It feels like the other times, leaving him weak in the knees in the worst possible way. 

When his feet are on solid floor again, they’re standing in his room. There’s only one bed. He can’t tell if it’s his or Jay’s. Their video game platform is sitting in its place near the TV, disks all over the floor. His laptop is nowhere to be found on his desk. 

“Where are we?” His foot hurts when he walks up to the desk. 

Cruella, well, the ghost, is smiling eerily. 

There’s a Christmas card standing upright that reads ‘Merry Christmas 2017’ in red and green. The background is covered in hearts and mistletoe. He’s about to peek in when he hears muffled voices echoing outside the door. He looks at the ghost whose eyebrows curl in pity, a look he doesn’t recall seeing on his real mother. 

Approaching the door, he slowly turns the knob and hears the voice more clearly, although he still can’t tell what they’re saying. He follows them, the ghost in tow. 

Lonnie and Evie are whispering to each other in the corridor. He thinks he hears his name and ducks when he gets in their line of sight. 

“They can’t see you,” Cruella says. 

“I know.” He replies curtly. He turns his attention back to the voices. It’s becoming clear that there’s a big argument going on in the hall.

“So that’s how it is?” He hears his voice, harsh and cutting the air like a knife. 

“Yeah, that’s how it is.” Another voice rings and his throat clogs up. “You’re being unreasonable!” 

The voices are near. He turns a corner and he’s at the top of the stairs in the main hall, on a landing. Jay has a hand on the decorated baluster and a foot on the first step, ready to ascend. Meanwhile a future version of Carlos is standing in front of the stair case. He’s taller, thinner, and he’s wearing a mess of black and white patterns laced with red accessories. His face is of deep-rooted anger, twisting his expression into something reminiscent of his mother.

“I’m a unreasonable? Oh, _I’M_ unreasonable?!” Future-Carlos yells, tearing down tinsel hanging from the wall next to him. _Now I’m not really proving my point_ , he thinks. “You’re just like Audrey now. She’s basically got you on a leash!”

He moves quickly and snatches the hat off Jay’s head, revealing a short, princely haircut that sort of puffs up when it’s free from the hat. 

Carlos frowns at the scene. Jay doesn’t look bad with short hard, just strange, as if he’s a different person. 

Jay is fuming, stealing his hat back vehemently. “Why do you care? You’ve got your precious Anthony with you everywhere you go. How’s playing house going for you by the way?” 

“Good.” It’s so brutal it might as well have been a punch. “If you’re so upset about it, then maybe you should have asked me to stay with you, dumbass.” 

“You’re so...” Jay is digging his nails into the baluster, the noise of old wood being squished is tiny but present. “You were the one with the crush.” 

Future-Carlos squares his shoulders and inflates his chest, trying to look much fiercer than he is. “Yeah, yeah, let’s talk about that!” He says, “You knew! You knew all along and you never had the decency to tell me! You just used me to boost up your damn ego.” 

“It wasn’t like that and you know it! You had your chances!” Jay launches himself at Carlos, coming very close to give him a good hook to the jaw but ultimately restraining himself. The other stumbles back, losing a bit of his posture. “You had 18 goddamned years of chances. I even asked you. You said no.” 

“You asked too late.” Future-Carlos takes a sharp breath, and then clasps his mouth shut. He looks old and sick. The traits of his face make him look much older than he’s supposed to be. 

“You won’t even talk about that night, will you?” Jay shouts, adding on to the weight that seems to make the older Carlos’ shoulders slouch. “You were just parading around the next day with a fake V-card in your back pocket. You feel used? How do you think I feel?” 

At the top of the stairs, Carlos’ face burns up. He and Jay had...? Oh, God, how could he let it happen? Did he take advantage of his friend? He didn’t know himself capable of it, but then again he couldn’t control himself with a simple kiss so he wouldn’t be surprised if he couldn’t control other…urges. His thoughts are cut short for him to become awfully aware that his mother, or whatever being is wearing her face, is listening. His entire head might burst into flames. 

“Did you really have to take my mom’s face?” He asks with a disgusted expression, eyes not leaving the events unraveling down the stairs. 

“It’s your subconscious, not mine.” The ghost says with a wicked grinning. 

“You were TOO. LATE. And why should I have been the one to say it? You felt it too.” Future-Carlos says through gritted teeth. His eyes are suspiciously wet. The glistening tinsel and perfect fairy lights around them look out of place. 

“Because I—” Jay stops himself. Carlos is waiting patiently. “I didn’t know how. I wasn’t sure.” He continues softly, almost guiltily. “How could I be sure, with you trailing behind Anthony like a puppy.”

“Hey, you’re the one who suggested I went after him. Don’t you fucking dare blame this one on me.” 

Carlos is kind of shocked at how profane his speech has become. He sounds cruel and bleak. He doesn’t like it. He doesn’t like any of this. He can’t stop watching. His heart is beating out of his chest. 

Jay turns around, hiding his face. “Whatever,” 

“What about me is so unlikable to you anyway? Don’t act like you didn’t fucking turn me down! Hey! Where are you going?” 

Jay is retreating now, going up the stairs with his head low. 

“Don’t go! Tell me! Tell me what I should have changed to please your highness!” Carlos says. “Is it because I suck at Tourney? Or because I’m too much of a nerd? Is it because my stupid mother taught me lies all my goddamned life? What do you hate so much about me?” 

“No one loves you.” Jay bites back. “You don’t _let_ anyone love you. Not even me.” 

Tears are welling up in Future-Carlos’ eyes. “Anthony loves me,” He drones surly. 

“No, he doesn’t.” 

The taller boy reaches the top of the stair. Carlos can look at him from up close now. He looks tired with a particular kind of bone-deep exhaustion that makes his eyes look like they’re sinking in. He’s not crying but this is worse somehow, excruciating. His hair looks like Chad’s; prim, proper, perfect and wrong, wrong, wrong. 

“You have nothing to do here anyway. Go to your fancy college with your precious Anthony and leave me alone.” He clenches his fists as he walks down the corridor to their –his—room. 

Carlos had never heard those words from Jay before; or at least they’d never been directed to him. _Leave me alone_ , he hears it echo around him. _Leave me_. He doesn’t want to. _Alone_. They’ll both be alone if he leaves. 

_Give it a shot_ , he thinks in retaliation. The older Carlos is looking at the spot Jay just left with a sour face before he starts scrubbing at his face. He lets out a frustrated roar and presses the heels of his palms to his eyes, trying to stop the tears from spilling. 

_Give it shot!_ Carlos pleads from the landing. _Give it a shot now! Run after him now!_

But Future Carlos is not listening. He can’t hear him. He leans on a table for a moment and takes a phone from his pocket. It’s vibrating loudly. 

“Hello? Yeah...I’ll be home soon...Sure, yeah... I’ll get it.” His voice is groggy. He sounds sad, unhappy, lonely. 

A hand grabs at the back of Carlos’ shirt to stop him from going down the stairs and whack his other self with a chair or anything solid enough to beat some sense into him. Jay likes him, or at least he liked him at some point. He can’t fathom how that’s not enough for this Carlos to be happy. He wonders what happened to ruin it. He’s missed a good 2 years worth of stuff, but can just see that it was his fault. 

“Time’s up.” Cruella says and he struggles against her grip because this isn’t how he wants things to end. He wants to go kick himself, wants to go get Jay and tell him that he’s not going to leave him alone, that he can’t get rid of him that easily. He wants to tell him he likes him and to hell with everything else, it’s better than a future where Jay hates him. 

“I need to fix it!” He screams out, still struggling in Cruella’s grip. “It’s terrible! I don’t want this!” 

“You know how to change the future.” He hears a voice in his head as his vision blurs. “It’s in the present.” 

 

 

He snaps awake and immediately thinks he’s going to throw up. He sits up, panting loudly. The bedside lamp bed is glowing softly in the room. It’s blinding him. He squints. 

“Are you okay?” Jay is looking over from his bed, where he seems to have homework open in his lap. 

“Where am I?” He’s in a daze. Everything is spinning and he’s trying to reel back the memories. There are fairy lights on the wall; crooked, but going all the way around Jay’s side of the room. Baubles are hanging from the lamp. 

“Hum. In our room? You were asleep when I came back.” He says. “How’s your foot?” 

He looks down at his foot. It’s bandaged up. “It’s okay, I guess.” 

There's a bit of a silence then; “Listen, Carlos.” Jay starts and part of Carlos wants to stop him from saying anything. But he braces himself instead. He still needs to process everything, but if he’s learned anything is that he should let Jay talk. “I…I don’t know what to tell you about the…well, the…” 

“I kissed you,” He says without hesitation, because there’s really no point in trying to hide it now. “Sorry, I should have said something earlier.”

“Hmm. Yeah. Maybe.” Jay chuckles. It makes Carlos’ heart swell. “Hm. I can’t make, you know, promises.” He says, rubbing at the back of his head. “But, do you want to, I don’t know, spend Christmas together? Or…something.” 

Carlos grins at him. He’s never seen Jay being so fidgety before. It’s sweet and awkward but maybe it’s always been this way between them and he’s just never noticed before. 

“Yeah.” He answers, unable to control the joy from spreading on his face. “I’d like that.” 

He doesn’t know if he deserves even a single chance. He has no idea how to let himself be loved. He wonders how Evie and Mal do it so easily, wonders if they’ve ever been visited by Christmas ghosts or Easter zombies, if they’ve ever wished to go back in time like he did. 

But as Jay nods with a small ‘Alright then’ and Carlos makes a joke about ditching science club for him, he thinks that the past and the future seem so silly, so malleable and he’s filled with hope that, yeah, this might just go the way he’s never let himself even hope it would.


End file.
